Lynda Plante - The Talisman

There was nothing more Edward could do. He didn’t even say goodbye to Alex, just threw his old case in the boot of his hired Citroen.

Driving out of Paris he felt, as ever, the desire to overtake every other vehicle on the road. Edward knew that Evelyn would more than likely be acquitted — a few months in jail, perhaps, and then he would be free.

Of late Edward had been drawn back into moments of his past, flashes of total recall. Now, as the sun broke through the clouds, he heard his father’s voice. That soft, gentle voice as he sat Alex on his knee and explained to him about life and death. Edward had never sat on his father’s knee, not that he could remember, it had always been Alex. What was it Freedom had said? Ahhhh, yes now he remembered — he had said, ‘If you love something, set it free. If it comes back it is yours, if it doesn’t then it never was.’ Edward had promised his son to Alex, he would never again try to take him away. It would be the one promise in his life that he would keep. He would set them both free... He put his foot down harder on the accelerator, pushing it to the floor, and the car quickly picked up speed. He sang at the top of his voice, ‘Can you rokka Romany, can you play the bosh...’

Driving at over a hundred miles an hour, he passed a police car. They switched on their siren and gave chase... Edward roared with laughter, and sang even louder, ‘Can you jal adrey the staripen, can you chin the cosh...’

The Citroen began to trail thick, black smoke from its exhaust. Cars swerved, mounting the hard shoulder as the police car, siren wailing, gave chase...

The back tyre of the Citroen blew, and sparks mingled with thick, acrid smoke from the burning rubber... The car seemed to leap into the air, turned half over and skidded for more than fifty yards on its bonnet before crashing into a low brick wall. As if in slow motion, the car righted itself...

The police car that had chased Edward, followed by two others, pulled up, and uniformed gendarmes ran towards the wrecked Citroen.

An hysterical woman with her pet dog began to scream, a thin, high-pitched sound... In the pandemonium the dog broke free and began snarling and snapping at the car.

As the gendarmes came within yards of the car, Edward Barkley could clearly be seen, a calm half smile on his face. He raised a hand and waved them back. His gesture saved their lives. They paused for a moment, and in that split second the petrol tank exploded. The car became a mass of twisted metal and shattered glass... A thick, black, mushroom-shaped cloud rose from the wreck, spreading its choking fumes in the air...

Helpless and horrified, the watchers stood... It was eerie — there were no screams from the car — the man who was burning alive in front of their eyes was sitting looking at them, and smiling. The dog stopped howling, it slunk on its belly and whimpered as the terrible black smoke swirled...

There was a sudden, unreal silence, not a single sound, an unnatural, ominous quiet... All the witnesses seemed frozen as if held in time for a fraction of a second. They saw a black crow, black-eyed with glittering, silky wings... It flew overhead and hung poised above the charred car. It screamed, a single, sharp note, then flapped its wings and rose, straight through the smoke and into the clear sky beyond.

Jinks woke in the middle of the night, feeling as though her body was on fire... She screamed, the heat was suffocating her. She scrabbled at the bedclothes, ripping them away from her body, then started to cough, gasping for breath.

Her bedroom door was flung open and her flatmate switched on the light. Jinks was sitting bolt upright in bed, her eyes staring, still screaming. She stopped abruptly, opening and closing her mouth like a silent bird.

‘Jinks... Jinks, wake up...’

Her friend shook her, but she seemed unaware of being touched. Eventually she lay back against the pillow, the sweat glistening on her forehead. Her friend quickly rinsed a face cloth and laid it gently across her brow. ‘You were having a nightmare, are you all right now?’

Jinks took the cloth from her forehead and pressed it to her throat. The coolness soothed her, and she apologized for waking her. From a distance she heard her voice saying everything was fine, she was all right.

At last her bedroom door closed and she was alone. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. All her senses were sharpened — the hairs on her arms and neck were tingling, and the tips of her fingers twitched of their own accord... She tried to regulate her breathing, stop the fluttering breathlessness, but to no avail...

Her head and body felt light, carrying her out on to the balcony, into the night, of their own accord. The shutters opened wide with one touch of her fingertips, the curtains billowed in the still night... Jinks knew, knew he was dead. In her dream she had seen the road, the blazing car, the smile on her father’s handsome face... Edward Barkley was dead. Her chest heaved as a searing, scorching pain ripped through her, forcing the breath from her body. Something... something had flown out of her...

The tingling sensation subsided, and she returned to her room, struggling to close the heavy, unwieldy shutters. She started to pack her cases.

To her friend’s astonishment, Jinks left first thing in the morning for New York. She had always tried to prepare herself for the death of her father, but it had come sooner than she anticipated. She felt no loss, but an excitement, a release... She felt free.

Evelyn Barkley had been sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment, the judge accepting his innocence of the acts of terrorism. At the same time, however, Evelyn had voluntarily financed the terrorists’ activities, and thus aided their cause.

He had already been in jail for five months, so he would, with good behaviour, be released in three to four months’ time. But his lawyer’s request for him to be allowed to serve the sentence in England was refused.

When he was led away to begin his sentence, he was told he would be allowed a few minutes alone with his father. He was coming to say goodbye before returning to England.

Alex had sat in court every day during the hearing. He had been supportive, attentive to Evelyn’s every need, and in return his son gave him a warm but respectful show of affection. He wanted, needed, to give Alex his solemn oath that on his release he would prove to his father and his uncle that everything they had done for him was worthwhile.

Evelyn was shocked at his father’s appearance. It was as though he had aged ten years in a matter of hours. Evelyn made an involuntary move towards him, but he stepped back. Knowing there was something terribly wrong, Evelyn placed a chair beside his father because he looked about to collapse.

‘He’s dead, I just got a call as I left the court. They want me to identify the body — I’m sorry, but I will have to go.’

Evelyn could not touch him. Alex seemed to recoil from any physical contact. He was so shocked, at a loss, and his confusion had a helpless, childlike quality to it. He clutched his briefcase, half rose, then sat down again. ‘Anything you need, the lawyer... er, the lawyer...’

‘It’s all right, father, you go and do what you have to. I’ll write, and... I’ll be home soon. Thank you for all you’ve done...’

‘All I’ve done? It was Edward, Edward... Eddie? Eddie?’

Alex stared around the room, repeating his brother’s name, then turned as his chauffeur appeared at the door. Evelyn watched as Alex slowly walked out, leaning heavily on the man’s arm for support. When he turned back his eyes were brimming with tears.

‘One time at school, this bully punched me and another kid. Eddie came in with fists flying, an’ he got a right shiner. Ma found us and demanded to know what was going on. Eddie said... he said, “Eh, Ma, this bully punched me an’ Alex and this kid, it’s not our fault.”’ Alex said it softly, more to the room than his son. He gave a strange, sad smile, then abruptly walked out. Now that Edward was gone he was trying to find an excuse for him, but there was none. In the end he was still the Big Bad Wolf.